


Telepathic

by doctortrekkie



Series: Break Me Down and Build Me Up [8]
Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: By popular demand, Can I tag "Hati" as a character, Cute, Fluff, Gen, Kinda, Leo still hasn't quite figured out he's in love with her yet, Look something fluffy, Pining, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Sibling Bonding, They tease with the best of them, Too late I've done it, a shocking concept, just needed to write something saccharine, that doesn't need archive warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-11-27 01:30:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18188042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctortrekkie/pseuds/doctortrekkie
Summary: Leo may have learned Corrin's origins, her true name, and the fact that the title ofsisteris nothing but a lie. Still, though, she remains his closest friend, a comfort he can't help but turn to in the wake of a particularly chilling encounter with Iago.He never did quite figure out when she learned how to read his mind, and he can only hope she never discovers the biggest secret he's ever had to keep.(Takes place three years before the beginning of Fates, and immediately afterMonster;July 633)





	1. Under Spell

**Author's Note:**

> I've pegged [Telepathic by Starset](https://youtu.be/fIGjpEtfcHE) as one of my top Leokamu songs from the moment I heard it, so of course I had to use it for a oneshot title at some point or another. The rest of the series soundtrack can be found [here!](https://doctortrekkiefe.tumblr.com/soundtrack)

_I don’t wanna let you go, but I can’t stand to watch this, I don’t wanna let you know, but you can read my mind, I feel it all the time, felt it all around you, you had me under spell right from the start, but I don’t have a telepathic heart..._

 

Leo spent the rest of his day looking over his shoulder.

So it felt like, at least. Encounters with Iago could never exactly be considered pleasant for any other parties involved, but the particulars of the conversation they’d had on that day left the second prince of Nohr with an especially persistent prickle of unease at the back of his neck.

At least, Leo thought, his father wasn’t one of his many worries that day.

A rogue band of Faceless had been sighted outside their usual precarious territory in the Woods of the Forlorn and, with Xander absent on a mission of his own and Camilla’s wyvern having suffered a recent injury, Garon had granted Leo command of the squadron sent to dispatch them.

Incidentally, he’d ended up with the dubious honor of receiving those orders at an age younger than either of those two siblings—Xander had been eighteen, Camilla nineteen. Part of Leo wanted to note that as a point of pride, yet the rest of him wondered, warily, if such a grim achievement was aught to be proud of at all.

Still, King Garon had been pleased, though the rare moment of genuine praise from his father had inevitably been soured by the ever-present stipulation that Leo had done _as well as Xander._ After sixteen years of hearing such a phrase, (and for all he knew he could probably add in the nine months in his mother’s womb) Leo thought by now the comparison should have stopped bothering him.

It hadn’t.

Xander hadn’t been around to give him the requisite pat on the back, having not yet returned from his own duties, though Camilla had cooed out her pride for as long as Leo had let her before he had feigned exhaustion and disappeared into the sanctum of his room. Sanctum it had not remained—he had scarcely managed to get out of his armor when Elise had come bouncing in, begging him for details of his adventures, and had stayed until an hour when Leo was no longer pretending to be enervated.

Morning came late the next day, or at least wakefulness did. It was Niles’s typical morning off, where Leo did not require his services until after the lunch hour—his retainer, as far as Leo knew, usually took the hours to head into the marketplace, and the prince did not question any further than that. It meant that the archer’s usual morning busyness hadn’t woken Leo, who found himself feeling equally parts decadent and ashamedly lazy when he finally did leave his bed.

Leo supposed it hadn’t been such a bad thing, as he very quickly found himself with want of something to do. Elise had a music tutor in from Nestra that day, a woman of very admirable age and incredible talent, who was—as Leo had learned firsthand—one of the singularly most boring people to listen to he had ever heard in his life. Camilla had, for some odd reason, decided to join their younger sister in her inevitable misery, and Xander had still yet to return.

_I’ve heard a rumor your siblings were planning on making a trip to the Northern Fortress in the morn._

Leo had quickly realized such a statement had been another of Iago’s manipulations, though he hadn’t quite figured out why the sorcerer would lie about such a thing. He hadn’t bothered even asking, though—with his three other siblings occupied or absent, there was not a fraction of a chance of visiting Corrin that day.

That thought was just a little more bitter than it should have been.

With a frustrated sound in the back of his throat, Leo cast aside the book he’d been reading—if he used to word _reading_ loosely, at least, since he wasn’t certain if rereading the same paragraph through five uncomprehending times really counted—and scrubbed a hand over his face. He was letting Iago win, he thought to himself, by dwelling so incessantly on their encounter.

Well, Leo decided. There was way he knew he could stop dwelling, if only because his favored mount made distraction impossible.

Casual clothes were quickly swapped for breeches and riding boots, Brynhildr stowed under Leo’s arm out of habit as he made his way out of the castle—he’d leave the tome under lock and key with Hati’s tack when he rode.

He wove through the maze of the royal stables with practiced ease—the Nohrian capital didn’t get its reputation for fine horseflesh from nowhere, after all—and stood appraising the tack room for a moment.

It stood as palatial and clean as ever, saddles, bridles, and equine armor lining the walls and leaving it with the always present smell of leather. This particular room held only the tack for Hati and Xander’s mount Skoll, with the only people bearing the keys to it being Leo and Xander themselves, along with their retainers.

 _And probably Iago,_ Leo thought with a sudden chill, an inkling of paranoia making him reconsider leaving Brynhildr there for a moment before he dismissed it. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t left the divine tome safely behind a hundred times before. Leo passed over the heavy armor and massive saddles for the lighter seat he used for schooling, one bearing a far simpler design and a longer stirrup than the saddle Hati wore into battle.

“Your Highness?” The voice behind him wobbled a little, high but still plainly masculine. Leo glanced over his shoulder to find a boy no older than himself. “My _deepest_ apologies, I wasn’t aware you were here, I can of course assist you—”

Leo inclined his head slightly, reaching for the room’s lone double bridle—Skoll was a kinder horse than Hati, which meant Xander didn’t usually need the sharper, more refined aids Leo could give with two bits—and said in a flat tone, “You’re new.”

“Um,” the stablehand began. “Yes, Your Highness. I just started here yesterday.”

Leo nodded, shifting the cantle of the saddle a little higher on his hip as he hooked the bridle over his shoulder. “Your name?”

The boy looked taken aback for a moment. “Sven, Your Highness.”

Leo nodded. “Have you met my horse, then, Sven? His name is Hati.”

“N-no, Your Highness.”

Leo nodded once more—he hadn’t expected a second-day recruit to have been allowed anywhere near the royal family’s warhorses. “One more question, then. Do you value your limbs, Sven?”

Sven paled and it was a long moment before he answered, “...Yes, Your Highness?”

“Well,” Leo said. “If that is so, then I would recommend you stay out of Hati’s stall.” The last of his tack acquired, he moved to push past the stablehand. Belatedly, he turned back and said, “That’s not a threat from me, by the way. I know my horse far too well to ever believe whatever punishment _I_ could give would be any fraction of what he’d already meted out to you.”

Sven somehow managed to grow even paler, and did not follow as Leo stepped around the corner.

_Bang!_

_Well,_ Leo thought wryly at the collision of hoof-on-wall, _if they ever rearrange the stable, I’ll have no trouble finding my horse again._

Hati’s face appeared in his window like a creature lunging from the abyss, his teeth bared and his ears flat against his head. Clearly he’d heard the sound of footsteps, and just as clearly he was not keen on the interruption.

Leo fixed his mount with a long look, one which was met by the sudden, innocent prick of Hati’s ears in his direction, his entire demeanor changing in a moment at the sight of Leo. Instantly, his expression could have been that of a demure children’s pony instead of the moody and irritable warhorse Leo knew all too well.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” Leo told him, hanging his saddle on the window before sliding back the stall door. “Least of all me.”

Hati blew out a snort, and Leo could have sworn that if a horse could roll their eyes the stallion would have in that moment. Two years ago, he might’ve been flattered by his mount’s abrupt attitude change. Now, he was well aware the innocuous facade was less out of respect for Leo and more of an attempt to play the infamous _It wasn’t me!_ card.

“And after I saved you from amatuer incursion,” Leo chided, reaching to check Hati’s feet. “Would it kill you to show a little appreciation?”

His answer to that was a jerk of the leg in his hand, Hati slamming his hoof back down half an inch from Leo’s own foot.

Leo turned, giving Hati a sideways glance that was soundly ignored. “Was that necessary?” he asked. “You’re being unreasonably churlish today.”

Hati flicked his tail, which Leo took to mean the equine equivalent of a shrug.

“It’s not like you should have expected the day off,” the prince continued. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been so idiotic as to give you _that.”_ He had, once upon a time, been stupid enough to let his mount have the occasional day of rest—until he found himself, without fail, on his rump the next day. On days like the present one, where he found himself without any pressing need to use Hati for his intended purposes, he’d learned to at least take the stallion out for an hour or so, lest he end up facing two full days of pent up steam when next he rode.

Strangely enough, though, by the time Leo had actually gotten on, working Hati through the series of circles, serpentines, and figure-eights that was their typical warm-up, he found himself facing almost nothing resembling _steam._ The usual spring in his mount’s step was gone, the spritely suppleness his line was known for nowhere to be seen. After twenty minutes, Leo found himself pulling up short and laying a hand to his mount’s neck. “Are you actually tired or are you just trying to lull me into a false sense of security?”

Hati lowered his head, blowing out a breath that told the prince perhaps it was the former. Leo shifted his reins to one hand, propping the other on his hip for a moment. Of course he was wary of working his mount into exhaustion, but leaving the session so short would likely be just as detrimental—sometimes Hati needed the _mental_ stimulation almost more than the physical.

Leo urged him forward again, pondering as Hati started into the long, ground-covering walk afforded to him by his enviable height and build. Had one of his siblings been around, or Niles, he would have scratched their usual work there and simply taken Hati out into the capital proper, affording him enough to keep his mind at work without being too strenuous. A glance at the sun revealed it would likely be another three hours at the least before his retainer returned, however, and Leo hadn’t any clue when his sister would be done or Xander would return.

 _I’m sure Corrin will be just_ ecstatic _to hear of your exploits, no?_

Leo forcibly tried to tamp down the memory of Iago’s voice, yet the damage had already been done, the idea already planted. Only twice had he ever gone to the Northern Fortress without any of his other siblings, and those two times he’d had Niles with him. They’d never had trouble with bandits or other criminals on the hour-long ride up, but never before had any of the royal siblings gone completely _alone,_ either.

Still… _gods,_ but he wanted to see Corrin. It had been almost six weeks since he’d had the chance to visit her, and with his ever-mounting stress levels he couldn’t help but pine for the quiet respite of the Northern Fortress. And the trek there and back would likely be just the sort of work Hati needed that day.

The smart thing to do, Leo reasoned, would be the put Hati up for now and wait the last few hours until Niles returned. Another part of him shot back that if he did that, he’d hardly have time at all to spend with Corrin until he had to turn around and leave again that evening, and what would be the point of a two-hour round trip then?

Without even realizing it, he’d started Hati back toward the stables.

For once in his life, Leo decided, he wasn’t going to do the smart thing.

He slid down Hati’s side, handing the reins off to a reappeared and still incredibly pale Sven. “Hold him for a moment,” he said, then added, “He’s tired, he’ll be fine.” _Probably,_ he added mentally, and set about for his and Xander’s tack room.

It took him hardly a moment to retrieve Brynhildr, tucking it into the usual satchel at his hip before finding a scrap of parchment and scribbling out a note for Niles to meet him at the Fortress when the thief returned from his errands.

Someday, Leo thought to himself, it would be nice to have a second retainer.

“Hati, don’t make a brat of yourself,” he said, watching as his mount—with sudden energy—pranced in circles around Sven, who was starting to look increasingly desperate. “Honestly, you know better.”

Hati froze, ears flicking back and head drooping a fraction in what might have been contrition. Leo rather doubted it actually was.

“Ensure my retainer receives this,” he told the stablehand, taking Hati’s reins once more. _“Honestly,”_ he added again to the horse when Sven was out of earshot. “Do you really enjoy tormenting people that much?”

The sideways look Hati gave him said he very much did, actually.

 

~~~

 

_“Leo!”_

The prince had hardly loosened Hati’s girth when Corrin’s voice reached him. A sudden grin split Leo’s entire face, one he carefully disguised by burying his face in Hati’s mane for the moment it took to get it back under control. It wouldn’t do for Corrin to think him _too_ pleased to see her, after all.

Once he trusted his facial features again, he inclined his head slightly over his shoulder and chided her, “Ah ah. Hati’s stall is a ‘shoes-only’ zone.”

He heard her huff from behind him, a sound that had him suddenly biting back another enormous grin. Sure enough, when he turned around he found her standing a few feet from Hati’s window, arms crossed and feet very much bare.

“You’re a killjoy,” Corrin told him flatly.

“I’m just saying that shod hooves and bare toes are not a pretty combination, Corrin,” Leo replied, setting his saddle in the window. “But if you’re _looking_ to drop a few shoe sizes…”

“That’s terrible, Leo!” Corrin cried, though he could tell she’d clapped a hand over her mouth from mirth rather than horror.

“That’s me,” he replied without missing a beat, pushing his saddle over a few inches so he had room to lay his forearms against the ledge. “Leo the Terrible, known for his most heinous crime of making his dear sister wait two more minutes before she can crush the air from his lungs.”

A beat went by, and when it had passed a rather dangerous smirk was coming to Corrin’s lips. “Are you sure about that?”

Leo realized, belatedly, that he was _definitely_ in reach of her, and hurriedly moved to push himself off of the window—but the realization came a second too late, because at that moment she all but lunged for him, managing to snake her arms around his neck before he had enough room to get away. He let out a sound that was halfway between a sputter and a screech, only managing to stumble back half a step before the force of her embrace slammed him back against the half-wall separating them.

Corrin let out a giggle, one muffled by the way their awkward positioning left her face smashed up against his chest. She pulled away momentarily, brushing her hair back behind her ear and giving him an angelic smile. “I win.”

“Do you feel better now?” Leo asked, rubbing the back of his neck and hoping he could attribute the sudden warmth of his features to the summer heat.

“Mmhmm,” she replied brightly.

Hati stamped a foot behind him, unceremoniously interjecting himself into the conversation, and Leo took the distraction of resuming the care of his horse. “So. Any new and exciting news to discuss?”

“No,” Corrin said immediately. “Not really.” She paused, her eyes narrowing as she glanced around the stables. “Where is everyone?”

“Xander’s away,” Leo said carefully. “And Camilla joined Elise for one of her lessons. I’m afraid you stuck with me today.”

“Yeah, but…” Corrin looked back at him, her lips flattening as a furrow painted itself between her brows. “Where’s Niles?”

“Oh, sure,” Leo said, rolling his eyes. “I come all the way out here to visit you and you’re worried about _Niles.”_

“Leo,” Corrin said, crossing her arms once more.

“He’ll be out here in a couple of hours, if you’re _that_ worried about seeing him,” Leo said with a sigh, brushing the last of the trail-dust from Hati’s coat. He patted the stallion’s neck, slipping out of the stall and fixing Corrin with a slight raise of brows.

 _“Leo,”_ Corrin repeated, concern written all over her features. “You didn’t come out here _alone,_ did you? You could’ve—what if something had _happened?”_

“Corrin, nothing happened,” Leo said with deliberate lightness. “Krakenburg isn’t _that_ far.”

She still chewed on her lip, tilting her head back to look up at him. Two years ago they’d been eye-to-eye—in that length of time, Corrin had added perhaps an inch and a half to her height; in that same period, Leo had gained half a foot. Judging by the fact he had that much to add again before he might be the same height as Xander, it didn’t seem like his body was going to be inclined to stop there, either.

It was still weird to look _down_ at Corrin, however.

“You worry too much, sister,” Leo said, skimming his hand along her chin for a moment before he reached back to tug on a lock of her hair.

Also two years ago, he thought, he hadn’t known that particular title was nothing but a lie. Even now the word _sister_ burned at his tongue every time he said it.

“You give me reasons to,” Corrin shot back.

Before Leo could answer her protests any further, a gruff voice reached them. “Lady Corrin,” said Gunter, a moment before the old knight came into view. “I understand your excitement, but you do still have lessons.” He paused, giving Leo a nod. “Good morning, Lord Leo.”

Corrin visibly deflated. “Gunter, can’t they _wait?”_ she asked. “I haven’t seen Leo in _weeks!”_

“It’s all right, Corrin,” Leo told her. “I can wait. Or help, even. What are you studying?”

Her expression managed to turn even more sour. “Geography,” she said sullenly. “It’s okay, Leo, you don’t have to help. It’s really boring.”

“Studying is only boring if you make it boring,” Leo told her loftily. “You must be going about it the wrong way. Clearly you need the aid of a master.”

Corrin’s lips twitched the tiniest bit. “A master, huh? Is that what you are now? Leo the Terrible, Master Studier?”

“If the shoe fits,” Leo replied, then shot another glance at her feet. “Not that you’d know.”

He earned himself a smack on the shoulder for that remark, but deemed it worthy anyways as the three of them headed back to the Northern Fortress proper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those of you who don't know, I went to an equestrian trade school for eighteen months and just recently graduated, so considering I'm looking to ride horses for a living I really hope I didn't make Hati's scene too technical to understand, haha. ~~I'm sorry I couldn't help myself.~~ If you have any questions then definitely feel free to ask!


	2. See-Through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Leo has better romantic instincts at sixteen than most people do as adults.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geez, you guys, I feel like this chapter needs a cavity warning. I regret nothing.

_Should’ve never felt this way, ‘cause you’re the sun and I’m just a moon, I’m in the dark till you light the way, ‘cause I’m see-through, you can read my mind..._

 

“And the capital of Nestra is…”

“Akacester,” Corrin answered immediately, though her tone was dull.

“Correct,” Leo replied over his shoulder, scanning one of the library shelves. “Although it’s better known for the town of…”

“Cyrkensia. Hailed for its patronage to the arts, particularly singing and dancing.”

“Exactly,” he said. “See, this isn’t so horrible, is it?” He half-turned back, fixing his eyes on where Corrin sat cross-legged on one of the room’s massive leather couches. “Hey, you’re not supposed to be _reading_ me the answers!”

Corrin glanced up sharply from the book in her lap, immediately protesting, “I’m not!” She turned the book around, holding it up for him to see. “Look! Just pictures!”

A moment went by before Leo said, aghast, “Why have you got a picture book?”

Corrin lowered it, hiding away the displayed sketch of the exterior of Cyrkensia’s largest theater—Leo had recognized it immediately from their family’s trip there the previous summer. “You don’t have to say that like it’s some sort of crime,” she mumbled.

“I’m just pointing out that a talented wordsmith ought to be able to create such a powerful mental image one has no need for pictures,” Leo said.

Somehow, her head hung a little more, and he felt a spike of panic shoot through him. What had he _said?_ “Well,” Corrin finally said, and even the tiny ounce of brightness in her tone managed to sound forced. “I mean, a picture book is the only way I’m ever going to see Cyrkensia.” She got to her feet, hurriedly, all but jumping toward another shelf in a plain attempt to turn her back to him, and her voice unmistakably wobbled when she spoke again. “I’m sorry if that makes me _childish_ in your eyes.”

A particularly ineloquent word that Leo would not have dared say aloud in public was what jumped to his mind just then. He’d have thought he’d learned how to avoid such grave missteps in their conversations by now.

 _Fix it!_ an inner voice screamed at him when a long silence dragged out. _Say something!_

“Corrin, don’t be ridiculous,” Leo blurted out.

He watched her shoulders hunch up toward her ears. _Something besides THAT, idiot!_ the voice groaned.

“No, wait, that came out wrong,” Leo said in a voice that bordered dangerously near to a stammer. He bit his lip, opened his mouth in vain, and scrubbed a hand through his hair.

“It’s fine,” Corrin said in a painfully flat voice, running her hand over the spine of a book. “Don’t worry about it.”

“No, hold on—I just—” Leo started again.

She ducked her head even a little bit more, but there was a miniscule, relieving note of teasing in her voice when she spoke again. “Use your words, Leo.”

Leo let out a short huff, his feet closing the distance to her without asking the rest of him. “I don’t think you’re childish for having a picture book,” he finally managed to say. “And I don’t think you’re silly for wanting to see the places you’re studying in whatever form you can.” He paused, daring to brush his fingertips feather-light over her near shoulder. “I think you’re being ridiculous for saying you’ll never get to see them in person.”

Corrin took in a shaky breath, her face still turned resolutely in profile. “Leo, I’m almost seventeen,” she finally said. “I haven’t been sick in years. Xander says my swordplay is almost as good as his was when he was my age. I’ve studied mathematics, culture, geography, politics, strategy…” She let out a sharp exhale, quickly tucking her ivory hair back behind her ear. “If there were ever a time to let me out… but he _hasn’t,_ Leo. He _hasn’t_ and sometimes I don’t think he ever will.”

Uninvited, Xander’s voice spoke. _If Corrin were to leave that fortress, if Hoshido were to find her again, there_ would _be war._

But surely their father couldn’t _truly_ intend to leave Corrin in the Northern Fortress for her entire life, could he?

A tiny, traitorous worm of a thought told Leo that King Garon very much _could._

“Please don’t cry,” Leo finally whispered, the words so harsh they all but chapped his lips. “Corrin? Look at me.” Hesitantly, so quickly it was almost a dart, he brushed his thumb across the lower curve of her eyelid. Perhaps a touch slightly too intimate to come from a man who very much knew he was not really her brother; Corrin shuddered the slightest bit as he did. “Listen,” he continued softly. “You know what comes after seventeen, yes? Eighteen. I’m quite certain you’ll leave this place by then. If not before.”

With aching reluctance, Corrin finally lifted her gaze to meet his properly. “Do you think?” she asked.

“Of course I think,” Leo replied. He resisted the urge to squirm—they were closer than he’d realized now, weirdly close, and he wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to do with his hands. Crossing his arms would only seem arrogant, would push her away, but of _course_ that morning he’d managed to grab the one pair of breeches he owned that didn’t have pockets, so that was out as well.

Corrin, incidentally, solved that problem a moment later, reaching her own hands out to catch his in a light grip. Leo shifted a little, actually glancing over at the fireplace to see if someone had come in and lit a fire without his notice, because somehow the room had gotten far warmer than he remembered it being a moment ago.

He put that mystery aside and cleared his throat. “And,” he said, “when you leave, I’ll take you to Cyrkensia.”

“...Yeah?” Corrin said.

“First thing,” Leo promised. “Unless there’s somewhere else you’d rather start.”

A moment passed. “Cyrkensia sounds good,” Corrin finally answered.

“Excellent,” Leo replied. “And where else?”

“What do you mean?”

He offered her a soft smile. “We’ll have to world at our fingertips, Corrin. Anywhere you want to go, anything you want to see. We’ll make it happen.”

Another moment. “Maybe Macarath?” Corrin ventured.

“Ah, and another splendid choice,” Leo said. “Clearly you’ve had a geography instructor of the highest caliber to have such fine tastes.”

 _“Leo,”_ Corrin groaned, tugging her hands from his to splay them over her face. “You’re incorrigible.”

“I thought I was terrible?” he said, propping one elbow up on the shelf beside him and resting his other hand on his hip.

She didn’t even bother to respond to that besides an exasperated groan.

“Come on,” he finally said. “Show me your picture book. We’ll call that the rest of our lesson, yes? Making an itinerary for Leo and Corrin’s Venture Through Nohr and Surrounding Territories.”

“What a mouthful,” Corrin protested. “And since this trip is for _me,_ shouldn’t it be _Corrin and Leo’s_ Venture Through Nohr and Surrounding Territories?”

“I am the travel expert,” Leo said loftily. “And my expertise deems that it should, in fact, be _Leo and Corrin’s.”_

“Your expertise?” she replied. “More like your _ego.”_

“Take that back right now or I’ll make all of our reservations in the slums,” Leo said.

“You wouldn’t last a day,” said Corrin.

“You say that like you _would.”_

 

~~~

 

Later that afternoon, Leo stood in the largest courtyard the Northern Fortress boasted—the main entranceway, just inside the exterior gates—Corrin’s picture book in one hand and Brynhildr in the other. He paced the perimeter, eyeing the illustration in the former book with a keen eye.

Corrin had gone to lunch; Leo, having had such a late start that morning, had not been desperately hungry himself and had begged off, much to her disappointment. On the other hand, he had a feeling her disappointment wouldn’t last terribly long when she found out what use he’d put the time to.

He took another glance down at the book, held open to a sketch of a meadow that the description informed was from the southern reaches of Nohr, nearly to the Nestran border—likely somewhere between Mount Garou and the port of Dia, Leo would have had to guess by the flora. It was a peaceful image, the meadow open and wide, lined by tall trees so full that it was clearly intended to be a rendition of the very height of summer.

Conveniently, the time of the year it was just then.

Leo stopped pacing, biting his lip in concentration. He’d come a long way since he’d first received Brynhildr two years ago, but this would by far be the most he’d ever done with it at one time.

With a surge of power, he lined two of the four walls of the courtyard with the same trees from the book, about half a dozen on each side. The other two walls held the exterior gate and a much smaller door that led into the fortress proper, respectively, and on those sides he sent thick vines creeping upwards until they’d almost entirely covered the stone. It was no surrounding forest, but with the limited space Leo supposed it would have to do. A carpet of grass went out next, green and swaying lightly in the summer breeze, dotted with patches of daisies and dandelions.

Lastly, just to his left he grew a particularly massive oak, branches reaching heavenward until he deemed it the right size. With a final comparison to the picture, he gave a satisfied nod and, a little lightheaded from the effort, leaned against the trunk to wait.

Leo didn’t have to linger long. He’d scarcely set the two books down at the base of the tree and crossed his arms over his chest when the inner door clicked open, followed by a call of, “Leo, are you out here? Jakob said—”

Corrin broke off with a gasp, a hand flying up to her mouth. Leo straightened a little, still leaning against the tree as a smirk began to work its way across his face.

“What is this?” she asked in a hushed tone. Absently, as if she’d just remembered, she slid the door closed behind her.

“It’s known as a _‘meadow,’_ Corrin, I should think you had learned that information by now,” Leo said primly.

For a long moment, she didn’t answer. She stepped forward, delicately, eyes fixed downward as her bare feet met the edge of the grass. Finally, hand still hovering her lips, she looked up, her gaze meeting his once more.

Leo was about to spout off another line when an unidentifiable sound escaped Corrin’s throat, something between a choked laugh and a sob. The smile melted from his features, replaced by panic seizing at his chest. “Corrin? What’s wrong?” He strode toward her, swallowing hard. He’d intended the gesture as something of an apology for earlier, but… “I’m sorry, is it too much?”

“No,” Corrin said, the word shaking a little. “It’s… This is _amazing,_ Leo, I didn’t even know you could…” She trailed off to wipe at her eyes and he wondered, desperately, how he’d managed to make her cry _twice_ in as many hours. “It’s just…”

“Just?” Leo asked, hoping his voice didn’t sound as high to her ears as it had to him.

This time, at least, he could identify the fact that she was _definitely_ laughing. “You were standing over there, looking oh-so-very proud of yourself, but…” Corrin broke off again, this time to let out a full-fledged giggle. “Leo, your vest is still buttoned crooked.”

This time, his voice absolutely came out higher than he wanted it too. _“Still?”_ he all but screeched, looking down at his torso with abject horror. Sure enough, she’d spoken truth. “What do you mean, _still?_ Are you saying it has been since _I got here?”_

“...Maybe,” she managed to get out through her laughter.

 _“Corrin!”_ Leo cried, scrambling to rectify the situation. “Why didn’t you _say?”_

“I was hoping you’d notice?” Corrin ventured, wiping at her eyes.

Feeling his face redden by the moment, Leo floundered for something to say, finally managing, “You’re the worst!”

“No, that’s you,” she replied with an innocent grin.

“Do you have any idea how many people have seen me today?” he asked, burying his face in his hands.

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think Hati cares,” Corrin offered.

“Yes, that helps,” Leo replied deadpan, fixing her with a unimpressed look.

“Thought so,” she said brightly. After a moment, though, her impish look faded back to wonder, her eyes sweeping over the courtyard again. “You did all this?” she asked in a hushed tone.

“No, I had help. Some fairies, two dwarves, and an elf.”

Corrin rolled her eyes, treading past him and laying a hand lightly against the bark of the center tree. “But why, though?”

 _Because I hate seeing you upset. Because I can’t stand the fact that you’re_ still _trapped here. Because you deserve so much better than this._ “A test of my skills,” Leo said with a sniff. “I wanted to see if I could.”

“Uh- _huh,”_ Corrin said in a tone that she didn’t believe him at all. She craned her head up to peer at the tree, untying a ribbon wrapped around her wrist and using it to pull her hair up into a ponytail. “Well, guess you’ve come a long way in the past couple years, huh?”

“As a matter of fact, I—” Leo broke off as she crouched and jumped, making a leap for one of the low hanging branches. “What are you doing?”

“I’ve never climbed a tree before,” Corrin replied, swinging from her hands until she’d gotten both her feet braced against the trunk. Leo momentarily envied the upper body strength that came from swordsmanship—most of his own strength was from his legs and core from riding Hati, but his mount was not so heavy in the bridle that Leo needed very much in the way of arm muscle.

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he said as she hung parallel to the ground, walking her feet up the trunk.

“No I won’t,” Corrin said, wrapping herself around the branch like a toddler on its mother’s leg before scooting around it till she was on the top. With a triumphant grin she pulled herself upright again, leaning her palms on her knees and peering down at him. “See?”

“And how do you plan on getting back down?” Leo asked with a quirk of his brow.

“That’s Future Me’s problem,” Corrin said brightly, and patted the spot on the branch next to her. “Come on up, it’s fun!”

Aghast, Leo replied, _“Princes_ do not climb _trees.”_

“I’m a _princess,_ what’s the difference?”

“There are quite a few, actually. Should we start with the biological, the political, or the cultural?”

“You’re my most insufferable little brother,” Corrin told him.

“I’m your only little brother,” Leo immediately shot back, the habit long-established even after he’d learned of its untruthfulness. “And I’d rather stay earthbound, thank you very much.”

“You’re just afraid you ca-an’t,” Corrin said in a sing-song voice.

“I am no such thing!” Leo cried.

A smirk came to her features, so dangerous he had to wonder who she’d learned it from. “Okay,” she said lightly.

Leo’s eyes narrowed. He hadn’t expected her to give up _quite_ so easily. “Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Clearly you don’t want to, so I’ll just stay up here. By myself. It’s totally fine. But I’m kind of high up, it’s getting hard to hear you down there.”

“Corrin, you’re three feet above my head,” Leo replied.

“Hmm? What’s that?” Corrin asked, cupping her hand to her ear.

“Brat,” he muttered.

“Can’t hear youuuu,” Corrin called. “I’m going to assume you’re saying wonderfully kind things about me to yourself.”

Leo rolled his eyes, swallowing back the sudden bitter tang in his throat and reaching for the branch she sat on.

His added height meant he didn’t have to leap for it like she had, and somehow he was pretty sure his scramble up managed to be even more undignified than hers had. She beamed at him when he’d made it up beside her nonetheless and he let out a tiny breath, thinking the idea hadn’t been as bad as he thought.

He looked down, and felt the blood drain from his face.

“...Leo?” Corrin’s voice had gone from teasing to concerned; she nudged his shoulder with hers and he forced himself to drag his gaze back up to her eyes. “Are you okay?”

“F-fine,” he managed, cursing the tiny stutter and swallowing hard. “I’m just—not a particular fan of heights.”

“Oh,” Corrin said, her face falling. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have teased you—”

“It’s okay,” Leo said, a long moment passing before he made himself shift. Though he wobbled terrifyingly for a moment, he managed to coordinate himself to swing one leg over the other side of the branch, and the sudden similarity to riding astride soothed him more than he’d realized it would. He scooted to press his back to the trunk as Corrin mirrored the motion to face him. “As long as I don’t look down.”

“Does riding Hati bother you?” Corrin asked.

He shook his head. “It’s different being on horseback. At least I know he’s got _his_ feet on the ground. Wyverns, on the other hand…” He trailed off with an undisguised shudder.

“If you’re sure you’re all right,” Corrin said, chewing on her lip for a moment.

“I’m fine,” he repeated. _You’re here,_ a small part of him added.

And, slithering back into his memory in an uninvited and entirely unwelcome attempt on the comfortable mood, he heard his own voice say, _You ought call her_ Princess _Corrin._

_Ought I?_

Leo forced himself to look away, beginning to count the leaves above their heads, dancing in the summer breeze.

_Did Iago know?_

Two years ago, Xander had finally told Leo the entire story of how Corrin had ended up trapped in the Northern Fortress. To begin with, Leo had been nothing but disgusted, and a part of him very much still was. He could understand, at least partially, his father’s motivations for his actions, but did it truly justify them? Was Corrin’s life an acceptable sacrifice for the peace she’d bought them?

He’d spent two years pondering it and he hadn’t come to a conclusion.

But the thought of _Iago_ knowing that entire story, of having that information simmering away in the back of his twisted mind until he had use for it, was downright _terrifying._ There was just so much he could possibly do with that knowledge, so much war and bloodshed he could bring about, and the sorcerer had never been one with any real fondness for peace.

“Father gave me a command yesterday,” Leo found himself blurting.

“...Oh,” Corrin said, in a carefully neutral tone that said she wasn’t quite sure enough of where he was taking the discussion to know how to react to it. “Did it go well?”

“Relatively speaking,” he replied. “No casualties on our side.”

“That’s excellent,” Corrin said, her tone growing brighter. “Look at you. My baby brother, growing up.”

“You sound like Camilla,” Leo complained.

A long moment went by before Corrin said, “Maybe before long I’ll be out there with you.”

He thought of Corrin interjected onto yesterday’s battlefield. In another world, one where she’d been raised with the rest of them, her age would have granted her that command before Leo. It would have been her out there yesterday, dodging Faceless claws but unable to escape Iago’s piercing gaze.

“Maybe,” he said absently, and hoped his tone didn’t convey part of him really wished she was wrong.

“Lord Leo?”

Leo straightened up—Niles must have come in through one of the smaller side gates, or they’d have seen him enter from their perch. “Over here,” he called to his retainer.

Niles strolled into view, raising a brow as he peered up into their tree. “My,” he said mildly. “Looks like you two were having fun out here.”

Leo, despite himself, flushed a little at the implication—an implication which flew soundly over Corrin’s head. “Isn’t it _amazing?”_ she asked, leaning back against the branch with a contented sigh. “I didn’t even know he could do this!”

“I’m sure that’s true of plenty of things, Lady Corrin,” Niles replied, crossing his arms and leaning against the trunk. “Milord has plenty of… hidden depths.”

Leo resisted the urge to hiss his retainer’s name—Corrin would only ask what his problem was—and instead leaned back against the tree with an exasperated sigh.

Niles began to hum a jaunty tune then, one Leo recognized after a moment; a song which discussed two people sitting in a tree, then ended by spelling out—

“Well!” Leo said brightly, hoping his face hadn’t begun to resemble his favorite food too closely. “I think that’s enough of the bird’s life for me—I am going to return to my place as a creature of the earth.” This time, he didn’t have time to process how far he was from the ground before he’d landed, rather less gracefully then he’d hoped but back on the earth nonetheless. _“Behave,”_ he whispered to Niles, hopefully too low for Corrin to hear.

“Why, Lord Leo, I _always_ behave,” Niles drawled back at the same volume. “I just don’t always behave _well.”_

Before he could answer back to that, Corrin descended as well. “Are you going to head back, then?” she asked, her tone light but clearly hiding her disappointment.

“I think we can manage a few more hours,” Leo replied quickly, shooting a glance at the sun. _Plenty of time._

A smile split her face, genuine this time. “Great!” After a beat, she surged forward, linking her arms around his neck. “And thank you,” she whispered. “For this.”

Leo closed his eyes, and forced away thoughts of tears and terrors and war. “Of course,” he replied.

 _Someday,_ he vowed as she pulled away, _we’re going to go see the world outside these walls, Corrin._

_I promise you._

 

_FIN_


End file.
